Check Your Corners
by TkdVZ05UUWdObUlnTmpjZ05HVWdOVF
Summary: Revamped version of Continuity of Operations Breached. F0rm4tK, or Format, a seemingly average teenage boy, gets caught in a war between artificial intelligence. He will have to deal with cyber warfare, and warfare in general. ShawxReese Rootx? Haroldx? Semi self insert. T for swearing, may go up if lemons come.
1. Chapter 1

**NFX: I thought that my OC in CooB was a little too OC and I've been too much on the crossovers so here's the revamped version of it. R&Rs are appreciated. I'm not gonna focus too much on my new OC, which is 'F0rm4tK' (pronounced 'Formatick'), so that you can imagine in your head what he looks like. He's white though, no offense to the blacks. Blacks kick ass in some movies. I'm gonna reveal Format's name later, just like how Jonathan Nolan revealed Root's real name a few episodes afterwards (or seasons, I forgot). This is a Semi-SI fic. Semi-SI meaning the TV series is actually real, just that it's only aired to very specific people who wants to pay top-dollar.**

**I don't own Person of Interest or any of its' characters.**

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><p>Special operations.<p>

It's something akin to 'unique', y'know? Like, something off the hook. Different from the usual raids that you get in the U.S Military. Usually these are the higher-priority missions given by higher-priority superiors, and sometimes even the president.

Or so my brother tells me. My brother died two years ago in a car accident. The driver of the other car died so cause of accident is unknown. Since then, I've been living with myself for the time being since my parents died and I have no sister. The only family I had after my parents died is my brother.

His name was Brian Bridgemoore. He was a good man. He was a sergeant in the U.S Army Rangers, so you can imagine he's protective of me.

My life has been boring since then, so I kinda pass my time by going to school early and playing shit on my computer and consoles, and watching TV series like Person of Interest, and that's basically all I do. I go out from time to time to buy the things I need, clothing, food and toiletries.

Also, I'm a hacker. And I hack shit. And I earn a lot of money from it. My biggest job was 2.4 mil, but I spent that on this TV series 'Person of Interest'. 2 million for a TV series. Insane, huh?

But anyway, I'm going too far ahead of myself here. I'll begin my story with this: It wasn't my fault.

Seriously, it wasn't.

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><p>"Ah, for fuck's sake! That's my spawn point you assdick and you're playing claymores there! Fuck you!"<p>

Just a usual day of me playing Call of Duty. At least I'm not 12, no sir, I'm 23 years old, but still.

I hear a knock on my door, kicking me out of my rage, so I decided to take a short break and turned off the PC. There's a reason it says 'Take short breaks every 45-60 minutes' you know? Anyway, I open the door revealing a man in a suit and a young woman who has long hair that goes down her cheeks.

"Mr *****? Detective Stills, this is my partner Detective Cortana. Can we come in?" Said Detective 'Stills'.

Cortana looked like an African-American with quite short hair that stops at the side of her eyes. Stills looked quite rough, and his hair was combed to one side. Looks good if you ask me.

I looked dumbfounded, but quickly composed myself and replied, "Uhm, sure." I swinged the door wider letting them in, took a little peek outside, then closed the door.

"Uhm, what's this about, Detective?"

Both of them sat in silence before 'Stills' spoke up, "We're here to get you to safety."

"Huh?" I asked. I haven't been making any enemies in my life, hell, I just barely go outside my house, so who'd come after me? Sure, I'm a hacker, but I don't hack other hackers and I mainly hack small time people, so I'm sure there would be no reprecussions... "I mean... I haven't been making any enemies in my life if that's what you're asking."

"It's not about the enemies you made. It's about the knowledge you have."

Just then, my window right next to me broke, making the two detectives reach for their respective pistols and taking cover outside, while I got the P226 my brother... "sourced" for me. He said it was for my safety, even got me a license. Never thought I'd be using it now.

"Shaw, we need backup, now!" I heard 'Stills' yell in his probable earpiece.

Since I just barely have training in guns and all that, I will have trouble with my current situation and with the tight house that I have, I need to get creative. Speaking of which, I should probably get my computer and salvage what's left of it. I have a lot of data on that, and I don't mean games. Data on people and places I've been working with, for and in. I'll do that later, right now, I need to worry about the guys shooting at me. Let me see... peeking up my window I see... four people, armed with SMGs and I think there's a sniper up in that tower, judging by the glint or glare that I just saw.

Since I saw that glint, it probably means I'm in his sights.

_Shit!_ I yelled in my head in panic, as the window broke apart into several dozens of pieces. _That's a fucking .50! He'll take me out whenever he wants to!_

I move out of cover and fire at their feet to make them 'dance'. It's an old trick that my brother taught me when he was telling me stories, but, what do you know! It worked!

All but one of the gunmen stumble down, then got shot by Stills and Cortana. Nice work, Format. But now, a few more SUVs arrive, and six more appear. Great, now we've kicked the hornet's nest. Or something close to it. Now they're armed with ARs. Fucking shit.

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><p><strong>R&amp;Rs are appreciated.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I know I'm not the greatest author, but there are barely any self inserts for Person of Interest, so I'm just widening the variety here. It'd be appreciated if someone offered me proofreading, but I guess I can handle myself.**

**I do not own anything except for my semi SI/OC. Any line breaks means FOV change between Reese and Format.**

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><p>After I got the rough idea of grabbing an assault rifle that was kindly tossed over my way when the detectives shot the previous owner, I'm guessing I can fare better now.<p>

Unless the assholes call in for reinforcements. Me and both the detectives were alternating, which meant that if I was reloading, one of 'em would shoot and another would cover me, and when one of them is reloading, I'd shoot and 'Stills' would cover her, et cetera. My aim was bad, mainly due to the recoil and my lack of training, but also because I'm getting shot at, and when you're getting shot at, you tend to get suppressed, and when you get suppressed...

Ah, fuck you. You know where I'm going at. I've already secured my hard drive and my computer, in general, so everything's pretty nice.

More gunfire, and our getaway driver finally arrived since a black Escalade rolled in. The rest of the men focused fire on the truck, but as I finished reloading, I took aim again, and took potshots at them as the detectives, and me of course, made our way, slowly but surely, to the Escalade. I nearly got shot after slowing down for a bit, but I recovered immediately and started shooting at the asshole who tried to kill me. _Slow down and you're dead, Format._ I remind myself. I never really thought shit like this would be so dangerous, but I guess that's the shit that my brother used to deal with when he was still in this world.

"Let's go!" 'Stills' yelled.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell took so goddamn long? I nearly got shot over there!" I whined. While whining is a bitch to hear, sometimes it helps you vent out the shit you've taken a few minutes prior. "I ran into some traffic, sorry." The driver said, which sounded awfully familiar for some reason, but I can't put a finger on it.

And now I realize she just said a terrible excuse. Great, what a fucking bitch.

We finally arrive at where we're supposed to be after a long ride, which was pretty comfortable, if you consider staring a window for 30 minutes 'comfortable'. An... apartment, I guess. Seems safe enough, so I follow them into it, into a room that reveals a guy in glasses. I nervously look around before approaching him, with 'Stills', 'Cortana' and the driver standing in different places.

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><p>This kid honestly needs some more training. His aim's very bad, but his aim is good for a civilian who barely has any training at all. I watched as he nervously approached Finch and took a seat.<p>

"Uhm... do I owe you anything? Because... I'm... kinda short of it right now."

I chuckled aloud as I thought that he just said the same thing I said when Finch approached me. Good times.

"No, Mr. Format, you do not own my anything. I've seen you, heard about you."

"What, like... international espionage or some shit?" That drew another chuckle from me and Shaw.

"No. You see, what we do is, we stop things from happening before they happen-"

"So, you're kinda like vigilantes then?"

There was a slight moment of silence before Harold spoke again. "Yes, but not the usual type. In order for us to stop crime from happening in New York city... we need talent. Talent like yours. If you decide not to join us, we will provide you with a passport to Chicago and some money, enough to keep you alive for a few years."

Again, another moment of silence. It seemed like our guy was mulling things over. "Alright, what the hell. I was wasting my life doing nothing anyways, so what the hell."

Finch smiled for a moment, something that we rarely see, before he went to his usual neutral attitude. "Mr. Reese will show you to your room."

"Uhm... alright, I guess."

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><p>That was quite a terrible introduction right there. But what the hell, if that guy knows a lot about me then he probably knows I'm a hacker and not a spec-ops military person or whatever. "It's right here." Reese says.<p>

"Alright, I'll see ya later, I guess."

After I got myself acquainted with the surrounding and the environment, I thought that this is probably gonna be my home anyway so, I guess I better make myself comfortable.

...

I forgot my computer.

GOD DAMN IT!

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><p><strong>Some advice and R&amp;Rs are appreciated.<strong>


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